Rabbit Heart
by naturally morbid
Summary: On-Hold. Deidra is just your average high school senior, that is, until she finds herself transported into the fictional realm of Nottingham. If that's not bad enough, she has to try and survive the Sheriff himself and find someway home. Sheriff/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** A new genre for me. This is more an experiment actually. This idea has been bugging me for a while now and I finally decided to run with it. So, the fruit of my labors.

**Info about things in the chapter:** Sometimes characters or places are denoted with a Mr_ or just _. No, there's nothing wrong with your screen or browser. It's actually an old practice of elminating true names, but for the sake of this story, it's fiction and because the information is just not quite important enough to garner a name, as well as being mysterious.

The year is supposed to be 1993. Old school yeah. And VHS.

Also, my main character is involved with the religion of Wicca. Now, I've used some of the principles, etc. I am in no way trying to convert anyone, etc. This is more for the storyline to give her something to relate to certain characters about. :) It is in no way meant to offend anyone, just fiction. Most covens do not take underage practitioners (18 is the usual minimum), but there is no real rule that says underage folks can't form their own. So, when she says a good coven, she means her friends.

**Summary: **Deidra is just your average high school senior, that is, until she finds herself transported into the fictional realm of Nottingham. If that's not bad enough, she has to try and survive the Sheriff himself and find someway home. But once she spends some time there, will she want to return to her normal life?

**Rating: **M for adult themes.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves or its associated characters. This is a work of fiction and no money is made from the writing of this. The lyrics belong to Florence + The Machine.

* * *

Rabbit Heart

_I start spinning, slipping out of time_

_Was that the wrong pill to take? _

-Florence + The Machine "Rabbit Heart (Raise it up)"

Chapter 1

I could begin this story with "Once upon a time…" but then that would give you the idea that this was a fairy tale. It's not. Not technically.

No, I would dub this more a modern "girl-tries-to-take-the-easy-way-out-but-messes-up-and-gets-into-all-sorts-of-trouble-before-learning-something-and-falling-in-love-with-the-bad-guy-thus-making-a-life-changing-decision-before-the-end" type of tale. But you could probably argue with me.

It all started in English literature, the day before Christmas break.

My professor, Mr. _ had a "proposal" for all of us.

In other words, homework over break. Of course. Mr._ still lived with his mother and had no social life. Duh, he wanted us to have homework over one of our favorite holidays of the year. He said he was preparing us for college next fall. I think he just wanted to make us miserable.

It's not that I was a bad student, I was just average. I didn't play sports, wasn't in clubs, unless you counted the go-home-when-the-bell-rings club. I wasn't terrifically popular, but I had an eclectic group of friends. Just your average high school senior, trying to graduate and move on like everyone else.

I probably spent too much time reading or spending weekends with my family. I had no boyfriend to speak of, at least a regular one. Sure I had been on dates; I wasn't completely deprived of normal teenage behavior. I was just a little different from everyone else.

My father had died of cancer when I was ten, leaving my mother with next to nothing. My mother had a psychotic break. I got sent to live with my eccentric aunt in another part of _. I still haven't seen my mother in eight years. My aunt said it was dangerous for my health.

Loads of things are dangerous for my health, but I still like them.

But this story isn't about my mother or my aunt, and sometimes it isn't even really about me or who wins.

You see, besides having a dysfunctional family, there is something special about me. It was something I didn't realize until I went to live with my aunt and did some digging.

I'm a witch.

Not in the usual sense, like bubbling caldrons and being able to shift people into toads. That's movie magic, though sometimes I wished it worked.

No my magic is different, heredity. It passed through my family on my mother's side. She didn't know it. My aunt said something about she was sure that my mother never embracing the magical side of her heritage, probably caused the episode that took her away from me. I have no other reason not to believe her.

I was familiar with the new age witchcraft, Wicca. Several of my friends got me into it when I started high school. Because it came naturally, I found that I was rather talented with spells and healing. I had a healthy connection with nature and my Goddess and God, a good coven to practice with, and my aunt helping me. I never realized that it might actually save my life in a way I had never imagined.

But this is not exactly about my choice of religion either. It plays a part, but it's not the main attraction.

No, this is still about the assignment that would change my life.

I'm not condoning taking shortcuts on anything. I knew better; way better. One summer, at the library for their reading program, I went through a period of absorbing old tales like King Arthur and the like.

"I want you all to read Robin Hood, any version you wish. Then write a report relating the story line to current times. It will be due when we commence again in January. Don't just rent the movies and write something from those. Actually read."

Now, as I said, I'm not a bad student. Everything Mr. _ gave us to read, I did read. But this was my one exception. I had read Robin Hood before, several times actually, but not recently. Good vs. Evil, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. I could do this paper in my sleep.

The day after school let out, my aunt was supposed to be taking me on holiday back to Ireland, for Yule festivities with some relatives of hers. Then we were going to stay through the New Year and I wouldn't be back until a day or two before school started. I was excited. It had been years since I had seen my home country, though traces of my accent sometimes showed up. Sometimes it made me unpopular.

So I figured, be progressive about it. I'll rent different versions of the movie, watch them that night, and write most of the paper now and maybe re-read the book when I got a chance on our travels. Aunt_ and I would just drop them back in the morning on the way to the airport. Progressive.

It had been snowing the last half of the school day, but we were used to it. No snow days for us. It was still daylight, salt was on the roads, no sweat. I had done it a hundred times before, since I had learned to drive. I would be fine.

I wished my friends a wonderful holiday and that I would send them postcards before I got into the warmth of my little car. If I hurried, I could beat everyone to the store, if they had the same idea. I figured most would wait until the night before.

The road was a little slushie, but I didn't worry as I continued to my favorite store. They had the biggest selection, no question. Dusting snow from my heavy coat, I let the warm air brush my face, nodding to the clerk at the counter.

Browsing the shelves, I picked up the newest Robin Hood remake (1991), plus any other version the store had. Never had I imagined so many copies! I stopped myself from picking up Robin Hood: Men in Tights. I hadn't seen it yet, but I really wanted to. I would consider it a treat to myself when I returned.

The clerk raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows at me, but said nothing. I smiled sheepishly, realizing how I probably looked. "I'm on a Robin Hood kick," I lied gracefully. She nodded, as if she understood, being polite and smacking her pink bubble gum.

Back out into the cold, where I would hopefully be home in time for a lovely cup of Aunt_ famous tea.

We lived in an old farmhouse out from town. I was the only person on the road, with the white fields around me. It was like driving from modern day to some distant time past.

But my tires did not feel quite like cooperating with my driving. I watched unable to stop it from happening, as my car slid into a snow bank. My head knocked against the window; however, I didn't feel hurt.

The world wasn't spinning now and my car wasn't too stuck. I stepped out into the light wind and snow, digging enough to get myself out then continuing on my way home. No damage done.

When I arrived however, my aunt had left a note that she had gone last minute shopping for things we'd need on the trip. I just hoped she made it home safely and that we weren't in the middle of a snow storm. It would postpone our trip.

I shed my heavy clothes, down to my hand-knitted black duster over my leggings, skirt, and long-sleeve top. My long, blood colored hair was damp from the stray snowflakes but it would dry eventually in the comfortable heat of our home.

My favorite teapot was howling away before too long and I seeped one of my favorite brews, apple and cinnamon. I grabbed a few of my aunt's homemade crescent biscuits and settled myself into my much loved tweed arm chair, armed with the newest Robin Hood movie and a pad of paper with my emerald green pen.

I realize now, that I had probably hit my head harder than I thought, to completely change my surroundings. Maybe it was a combination of the warm tea and magic, or perhaps just some strange opening in the fabric of reality. Whatever it was, I'll never know.

I can't tell you how a sort of normal high school student wakes up in another time, or even in a fictional story. I wish I knew. I can't tell you how to make it happen again.

However, I can tell you exactly how I changed fiction, just with my added presence, well sort of…

X

I'm not sure when I dozed off. I don't think I even made it past the credits. It's not that the movie was boring; there were just quite a few other factors.

Before I opened eyes, that I couldn't remember shutting, I realized something was different. The air smelled purer somehow. I couldn't smell the familiar age of my aunt's house for one thing.

Instead, unfamiliar scents touched my nose causing me to open my eyes. It took a little while for my brain to catch up, so I was just staring off into nothing for a while.

There were trees everywhere. I couldn't even identify them. The ground was rather soft, leavings providing a temporary bed for me. I knew leaves were tangled in my hair as I sat up. I felt dazed, like I was dreaming.

But somehow, I knew I wasn't. Gut feeling.

Behind me, a horse snorted. I nearly jumped out of my skin, grabbing my chest as my heart started.

"And what…have we here?" a distinguished male voice asked from behind me. My flesh tingled and I realized dully that this man possessed magical ability as I started to turn around.

X

* * *

**Author's End Note: **So ready to know more? Who is that mysterious man? Any ideas? :) Please, postive and constructive feedback. No flames.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I don't have too much to mention about this chapter. It's sort of short, I know, bit of a filler really until I get to good stuff next. I tried to catch the pauses in his speech, so I hope that translated well... That's about it. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Robin Hood: POT and no money is made from this.

* * *

Rabbit Heart

Chapter 2

Of course, the voice behind me could have been anyone; of all the forests in the world…

I turned around slowly on my heel. How had I not noticed a huge white horse standing there when I had been lying on the ground?

The horse's rider slid down from the saddle, approaching me calmly. I was the one whose heart was racing faster than a rabbit's. His smile, although pleasant, did not quite reach his dark eyes.

He held a gloved hand out to me, like some frightened animal he was trying to steady. I remained frozen in my spot, well aware that I was out of my area of expertise, probably out of my time period too.

His clothing, I knew wasn't modern, although rather familiar. I was thinking at least pre-14th century. His hair, although longer and shaggier than some men liked it, was not unflattering to his face and accompanying facial hair. It was as dark as a black bird and just as glossy.

"What is such a lovely young woman doing in my woods all… alone?" he asked me, taking my hand gently to his mouth. Oh Goddess what a charmer! His mustache tickled my skin, where his lips didn't touch. I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away; he was being chivalrous.

"I, uh, don't know." His gaze appraised me, from head to toe. I shivered, under the scrutiny. I hoped I was wearing clothing, with the way he was raking his eyes over every inch. A quick hand in my duster pocket told me I was.

"You are… lost, then?" he asked with mock surprise, raising an eyebrow.

"You could say that." Something flickered in his expression as his eyes came to rest on my neck. Irrationally I thought, 'Oh Goddess, don't bite me!" Instead, a gloved hand reached for something resting there. My pentacle must have slid from beneath my shirt. He examined it with interest that had nothing to do with my figure or sex.

"A lost little lamb," he whispered, taking a new appraisal of me. "I apologize…where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't, actually." He nodded, watching my face once again, waiting for me to elaborate. "I'm from far away," I told him. Really far away, I added in my head.

"Beyond Nottingham?" I nodded before it struck me exactly where I was. But how had it happened? A spell? I was dreaming. His hand felt real enough… "A woman that wears the clothing of a man…" his voice trailed off.

"Yes in my village, this is the required wear." Oh shit, I was wearing my modern day clothing still. Though, if I let him progress, I wouldn't have need for it. I didn't consider myself to be of any real beauty, and yet his eyes never left my frame. What a pervert!

"Then why are you…so far from home?" I had to think fast. Quick, something he would eat up.

"My family cast me out for being what I am," I told him sternly. He 'tsked' several times, all the while trying to lead me close to his horse. To be perfectly honest, the beasts scared me. I was just a wee bit afraid of heights.

His steady hands found my waist as he steered me to the left side of the animal. It paid little attention to me. He meant for me to get on the thing! I balked.

"Sir," I gasped suddenly, enough to get his attention. "I do not even know who my savior is!" I tried to tear away from him. He caught me by a wrist. I had a bad feeling.

"George, my lady. Sheriff of Nottingham." His mouth twitched. He was hoping for a docile creature, who would accept without question. Well not me. I had to stifle a chuckle though, as his name was simply George, when you had people like Robin of Locksley running around. It had always struck me as terribly funny. "And what name, pray tell, do you go by?"

"Deidra of London." As far as I knew, he wouldn't be able to figure out that I was actually Celtic, unless my accent grew heavy. If I remembered correctly, being Celtic in this period was to be barbaric. "But I'm afraid I will have to decline your ride," I told him. His hand gripped my wrist harder than I realized, nearly cracking the bone. It would really suck to injure myself now; there was nothing in the way of medical care. "I hardly know you."

I expected any other facial expression than the one he provided me with.

He smiled, like he knew something I didn't.

"Oh really?" he drawled, his thumb caressing the shivering flesh of my hand.

"Yes." I made the worst attempt to curtsy.

"I…think not." His mouth turned grave, frowning.

"And just why not?" Continue with the self confidence.

"Because you are… trespassing on my property. I am arresting you." Before I could struggle any further away, he grabbed me and threw me over the back of his horse, climbing up and pinning me to his lap.

His murky laughter rang through the trees, sending a shiver down my spine. I kicked and attempted to free myself. It would be better to fall to my doom off a speeding horse, than what he probably had in mind for me.

Five minutes in a new place and already I was knee deep in trouble.

If you've ridden a horse in this manner, then you know how perfectly uncomfortable it is. If you haven't though, my words will not come close to relating the experience. I felt like I was being pummeled with every movement, everything jostling around. The trees seemed to fly by, and the Sheriff would give me a good slap on the rump every now and again. It was humiliating.

I felt like some sort of common whore.

Never had I been treated this way. If this was going to be my lot in life, then life had another thing coming. I refused to be less than a man. In modern Wicca, men and women are on equal footing, feminism and all that. But in the 12th century, women had no rights or say in their daily lives.

I screamed, hoping someone was about and would hear my cries. Nothing. A well regulated slap to my backside, just enough to irritate me, but not enough to harm me or cause physical marking. I gave up for the time being, propping my head up by my palm as we galloped along.

The castle loomed, dark and foreboding in the distance. I wondered how many girls the Sheriff picked up. It wouldn't be the first time I would wonder that either. In the coming weeks, it would be something I would have to adjust to, at least at first.

If I were Alice, this would be a wonked version of Wonderland that I had somehow fallen into. Guards opened the gates with much respect as their master galloped into the yard, pulling hard on the horse's mouth to stop short.

I was almost tossed over the neck, grabbing my captor by pure instinct, even if he claims differently. He jumped down before I did; snatching my waist and holding me flush to him, so that I couldn't possibly escape.

His grip was hard and his voice merry as he called out for someone named Guy. Guy of Gisborne, of course. I always thought that was a funny name. Just like George. I tried not to laugh, though they were two peas in a weird, sexual little pod.

"Come and see my newest conquest!" he called, pushing me ahead of him. I knew, if I entered those walls, I wouldn't lead a normal life again. I dug my heels in the unforgiving dirt, despairing as it did me no good. He pulled me along anyway, as if I were but a feather.

I was so angry. I tried to spit, to curse as a lady shouldn't, but his hand clamped firmly over my mouth and the darkness swallowed me.

* * *

**Author's End Note: **Review?


End file.
